Tag Archives: Robert McWhir

SAVAGE

★★★★

White Bear Theatre

SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

★★★★

“A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft”

There are some stories that shock because of their subject matter and some that are disturbing due to the knowledge that they are true. Claudio Macor’s one-act play, “Savage”, has both of those qualities. And more. One minute we feel as though we are in a horror fantasy spoof (the psychotic doctor injecting monkey testosterone into an innocent victim’s testicles), the next we are watching a searingly tender love story.

There are further layers added – some explored with deeper insight than others – as we are transported back to 1940s Denmark during the Nazi German occupation. Macor takes us beyond the stolen kisses in darkened doorways into what was really going on behind those doors. And although a screen shields the operating table, we can clearly see the vicious cogs that powered this savage regime. Danish born Nikolai Bergsen (Kerill Kelly) and American Zack Travis (Matthew Hartley) meet at the notorious Corner Light Club in Copenhagen, a place under constant watch by the Schutzstaffel (Hitler’s paramilitary police) for evidence of the “disease” of homosexuality. Late one night, Nikolai is picked up, beaten up and dragged into Nazi sympathiser Dr Vaernet’s surgery for the so-called corrective treatment that will cure him of his ‘sickness’. It is a Kafkaesque scenario that beggars belief – the temptation to storm the stage and intervene is strong, such is the authenticity of the performances.

Both Kelly and Hartley capture the mix of passion and danger inherent in their love affair with enough realism to suggest that it might not survive the forces that oppose it. Mark Kitto’s Dr Vaernet cuts a gruesomely sadistic figure made more horrific by his detached coolness and willingness to kowtow to the SS. His assistant nurse, Ilse (played with a potent stillness by Claire-Monique Martin), is all subservience on the outside, but inside the fire of resistance burns passionately below the skin. Meanwhile Tom Everatt is the symbol of oppression in the form of Obergruppenführer General Heinrich von Aeschelman – a nasty piece of work. Reflecting Macor’s writing, Everatt’s performance borders on comedy, strengthening the cynical, satirical parody that is warranted.

There are dark secrets – that I won’t spoil for you. Jonathon Nielsen-Keen is a striking presence as drag cabaret artist Georg Jensen, who rises above victimhood to expose the hypocrisy and deadly double standards of the authorities. Rounding off the impressive ensemble is Simon Chappell’s Major Hemingway whose late appearance in the story in no way undermines his importance.

Macor beautifully marries the tenderness with the savagery, and the skill of the writing is in the detail. Callous asides speak volumes. “The cure will make more space for the Jews” is the appallingly sickening justification for the rush to free up the camps. Lines like these are simultaneously easy yet impossible to miss in the dialogue that is finely researched. Last staged in London ten years ago, Macor has shortened his script into a finely honed drama, condensing the action into one act. It is an important and frightening piece of history that, in this team’s hands, doesn’t come across as a documentary. Director Robert McWhir’s simple staging allows the emotion to shine without overshadowing the brutal reality of the events. Aaron Clingham’s music provides an authentic sense of the period while Richard Lambert’s minimal lighting enhances the stark atmosphere – although the use of two small, flat-screen monitors to pinpoint the various settings is unnecessary, and anachronistically out of place.

Perhaps a little too much pruning has taken place. There are times when we feel the characters could be explored even further. But on balance, Macor has pretty much hit the spot. A succinct epilogue reminds us of the cold fact that this is a true story. A disturbing experience but a pleasure to witness the stagecraft. Heart-breaking and savage, it would be a crime to overlook.



SAVAGE

White Bear Theatre

Reviewed on 27th February 2026

by Jonathan Evans


 

 

 

 

Savage

Savage

Savage

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

★★★★

Stage Door Theatre

THE STORY OF MY LIFE at the Stage Door Theatre

★★★★

Hill’s dialogue and Bartram’s lyrics are full of eccentric humour, observations and paradoxes”

“The Story of My Life” wears its influences unashamedly on its sleeve, but at the same time has some gorgeous little tricks up those same sleeves. The opening number, ‘Write What You Know’, has more than a nod towards Stephen Sondheim, yet as the song list unfolds, Neil Bartram’s own individuality as a composer shines through. The musical numbers are the perfect accompaniment to Brian Hill’s book, that is intelligently and wittily crafted into an emotional tribute to friendship. The musical’s spirit is lifted straight from Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, and it soars just as high. Truly, it’s a wonderful show.

Alvin (Tim Edwards) and Thomas (Markus Sodergren) are childhood friends. They became best friends in first grade, bonding over their respective Halloween costumes – Thomas as the Angel Clarence from Capra’s film and Alvin as the ghost of his mum. An indeterminate number of years later, Thomas – now a bestselling author – is trying unsuccessfully to write the eulogy for Alvin’s funeral. The ghost of Alvin appears, more of a distraction than a helping hand, but between them they pull books from the shelves behind them, picking out stories from their past and moulding them into the songs that beautifully evoke their friendship, and the forces that drew them together, then apart, and eventually together again posthumously.

Alvin is a bubble of energy, fascinated by the infinite quirks of the universe while remaining trapped within his own small world. Edwards brilliantly captures Alvin’s sheer ingenuous joy of life, that beats like a fragile wing unable to withstand the winds of fear and insecurity that push him over the edge. His is a complicated mix of neediness and loyalty that Edwards makes irresistibly endearing. Sodergren’s Thomas is more calculated but no less complicated. Breaking bonds and breaking away, his success as a writer throws him into denial. Not just for his true feelings, but also the fact that his literary triumphs are, in fact, literally stolen from his friend’s imagination. Sodergren perceptively chips away at his hard mantle, eventually acknowledging the debt he owes. Whether it is too late or not doesn’t matter; he melts our hearts anyway.

In fact, they both do. We laugh and we cry with them. Hill’s dialogue and Bartram’s lyrics are full of eccentric humour, observations and paradoxes. Occasionally verging on platitude, they are pulled back by the performances. Each song is seamlessly crafted into the text, drawing us in with a smile or a tear as we are swept from the underscore into the waves of emotion of each melody. Sometimes the line between leitmotif and repetition is blurred, but there are some stand out moments. ‘This Is It’ echoes the multiple meanings of the title phrase; its harmonies bringing the couple together. A rich counterpoint to ‘Saying Goodbye’ – parts one to four seen through different eyes. ‘The Butterfly’ is another stand-alone moment, quiet but strong and magnificently delivered. ‘1876’ adopts a lilting folksiness that conjures a young Tom Waits. Minus the gravelly voice, of course. Both Edwards and Sodergren have the vocal purity that can carry the emotive weight of the songs. Musical Director, Aaron Clingham, skilfully and sensitively guides them through the repertoire. They are often tricky numbers, but Clingham’s effortless piano – accompanied by Pippa Mason on cello and Becky Hughes on Clarinet and oboe – lift them into a floating and haunting score.

Designer David Shields’ setting is stark, simple and spot on. White books stacked on white bookcases feed the narrative as the actors plunder the shelves for their backstories. Robert McWhir’s intuitive direction allows the action to wander through the audience, drawing us further in still. Eventually we don’t mind that the ending is unresolved. We never get the full answers to the questions that this musical poses, yet we are filled with a sense of peace. It is quite a unique experience to be moved by something that isn’t being shouted from the rooftops.

Alvin talks about the ‘Butterfly Effect’ – the idea that the world is deeply interconnected, and that a small butterfly flapping its wings could, hypothetically, cause a typhoon somewhere else in the world. “The Story of My Life” is seemingly small-scale, yet it has a huge effect. And an even bigger heart. A real gem that needs no Guardian Angel to ensure its success.


THE STORY OF MY LIFE at the Stage Door Theatre

Reviewed on 13th September 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Peter Davies

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE TAILOR-MADE MAN | ★★★★ | May 2024
MARRY ME A LITTLE | ★★★ | March 2024

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page